Book News

1. Neil Gaiman is working on a new novel. How is it coming along?

Not that the novel has yet made it off the ground. Right now it's taxiing madly backwards and forwards across the airfield, with ground staff comically throwing themselves out of its way as it hurtles dangerously toward fences and buildings. But I have faith in it.

Me, too.

See... I think maybe this plane reference isn't actually in reference to the status of Gaiman's novel. I think he actually was on a plane and all this was happening (for real). Check out his blog to know for sure.

2. Publisher’s Weekly has launched their new website. You now need to be a subscriber to view everything around the site.

3. The Onion A.V. Club reviews Chester Brown’s Louis Riel: A Comic-Strip Biography and Joe Sacco’s The Fixer (which they don’t show the cover for). If you would like to know more about these artists/authors, you can check out their personal studios at Drawn & Quarterly.
Last 10 Search Term to Return

1. hatchet by gary paulson quotes (Google)
2. poopy butt in manx cats (Google)
3. mtv room raiders underwear drawer (Google)
4. blacklight bleach bottle party (Google)
5. “based on” “Hatchet” “gary paulson” movie (Google)
6. pictures of sirius-the dog from the prisoner of azkaban the movie (Google)
7. girls with dentures (Google)
8. tommy hilfiger’s daughter (MSN)
9. Altered State by Jennifer Finney Boylan (Google)
10. “jessa” “campbell” (Google)

Poopy butt in manx cat! I knew Griffith wasn't the only one with this embarassing problem!
What's up with Amy Blair's write-up? "Smokey Tornado"? That's awesome.
Oh barf. I can't even believe this is real.

Found the link through Gawker.


Bhah ha ha ha haaaa!!

I've just done all my Christmas shopping at Amazon. I'm done. I got the most perfect gifts, wrapping paper, cards, etc. Now I don't have to deal with:

1. Last minute shopping and getting people crap gifts because all the good stuff was bought weeks ago.
2. Traffic.
3. Getting shoved around by bitchy/frantic shoppers.
4. Traffic.
5. Going from store to store to store because one person wants music while another wants cooking things while pets need pet things, etc.
6. Dealing with vacant sales people.
7. Lines in stores.

I’m seriously going to have so much more free time in December than I did last year. At the moment, my mom is really into copper things so I just went to Kitchen & Housewares and typed “copper” into the search box. A bunch of copper things came up, clickity-click, I’m done shopping for my mom and I know she’s going to like the gift, as opposed to the Mickey Mouse pencil holder gave her last year. (“Sorry, it was all I could find… Uh…Oh yeah, and I love you.”)

See, this is exactly why I'm shopping online this year.
I’m a little late with this, but The Canning Season by Polly Horvath has won the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature.

"Though fairytale-like in its setting and its charm, do not be fooled. Suicide, decapitation, wretched mothers, and a sprinkling of profanity pepper this poignant, philosophical, darkly humorous novel that dips into subjects from technology to love to death."

Suicide? Decapitation??? It doesn’t sound like your normal children’s chapter book; it sounds good.


Who Put the Banana Peel in the Middle of the Road?

This past weekend, I learned that you shouldn’t play eight consecutive hours of Mario Kart: Double Dash!! and then drive out to the convenience store for a jug of milk. You end up racing along bendy roads at 50mph, taking sharp corners by pulling up the emergency brake and fish-tailing the rear end of your car, shooting speed boost mushrooms if you think someone’s going to pass you, etc.


GIS Day: Part II

GIS Day (part 2) was moderately better today, but maybe that’s because I left early. I went across the street to the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. The new exhibit on mammals was cool, the Asian, African and Native American sections were good but the BEST was the geology and gems area. I went through the back way so I didn’t see the Hope Diamond until the end. All the gems, though! Oh! I wanted to smash my fist through the display cases, grab fists full of the sparkling gems, shove them into my pockets and start running. Oh! Some of them were the size of sandwiches! So big! Then I got to the national gems, a room filled with diamond necklaces, canary diamonds, rubies, sapphires and tiaras! Then I got to the Hope Diamond. Talk about hype. Yeah, it’s cursed, beautiful and has a colorful history but what’s the super big deal? It’s in a display case in the middle of the room and the pedestal it sits on turns 90 degrees every 15 seconds so no matter where you’re standing, you’ll eventually get a frontal shot of it. A whole bunch of people were standing around it, cooing, and I was thinking, “Yo, did anyone see the diamond necklace, earrings and ring set in the other room, totaling 256 carats of yellow diamonds? I’d take that over this necklace any day, you idiots.” I understand the overall allure of diamonds, though. When faceted properly, no other mineral can give that sparkle. All other gems pale in comparison.

Then I went and saw T-REX 3-D at the IMAX Theater inside the museum. It cost eight dollars and lasted a mere forty-two minutes. It’s good for kids but I felt gypped. I thought it was going to be all in the jungles and dinosaurs ripping apart other dinosaurs with entrails and shards of bones flying at the screen but instead, it was a poorly executed melodrama about a girl who wishes her paleontologist dad would take her some on digs with him. There were parts where things flew out the screen at you while the girl walked through a “jungle” (in her mind) after sniffing some prehistoric paleo-fumes and I jumped a little but, overall, the movie was weird. I want to try some of those fumes, though. It looks like you get an awesome trip from it.

My flight is tomorrow morning, so I’m going to read a little, crank call a couple other hotel rooms and go to bed.


GIS Day: Part I

GIS Day sucked. I think I talked to no more than a dozen people and it was all people who liked to hear themselves talk. I couldn't believe what some of these people were saying. And then, when I was actually paying attention, I didn't understand what they were asking. I'd say, "So... you want a GIS interface for all historical monuments and when you click on them, you can view construction reports on that monument?" and they'd be like, "No. I want you to teach my students GIS." And I'm the ONLY one that didn't get it. I'd ask my question and all the other presenters around me, who have the magical ability to put two and two together, turned to me at once and so, "NO NO NO NO NO, she means she wants you to TEACH GIS to her STU-DENTS." Whatever. Shut up.

And I have more of the same to look forward to tomorrow. Good news is I can kick out early and hit some of the museums before they close for the day. I want to see all the gems and things at the Smithsonian. That would be cool.

I might go out later (it's raining wicked bad, so I don't know) and see if I can't find a good bookstore. Olsson's is supposed to be around here somewhere.


At the Nation's Capital

I’m in Washington D.C. this week, for work. Tomorrow is National GIS Day. “So soon?” you exclaim. “It seems to sneak up on me every year!” I know how you feel.

Well, even if you don’t know what the hell a Geographic Information System is, it’s just a map on a computer. It can, of course, be more complicated than that. You ever use MSN’s MapPoint or MapQuest? Those are web-based GIS interfaces. If you don’t have ESRI software on your computer to create your own GIS, tape a map onto your computer monitor. Close enough.

I came down with a co-worker who’s staying outside the city with her parents. She brought her 7-month-old daughter down to spent time with her parents. Here’s something they don’t tell new parents: When you have a baby and need to go somewhere, be prepared to pack 10 times more than you would have packed pre-baby. I brought a computer bag and a small carry-on. My co-worker brought a car seat, stroller, duffle bag big enough to fit several small children inside, backpack and diaper bag. Oh, the baby as well. And it’s not like she packed irrelevant items (I’ll just bring this vase and lamp. You never know.), she needed and used 80% of just to get from home to Boston to DC.

When I picked her up this morning, she went put her things in the trunk and saw my small bag. She said, “That’s all your have? That’s cool.” She said it in passing, innocently, but I felt bad all of a sudden. Like, maybe I should have brought more so that she wasn’t the only one bogged down. Her daughter was really good throughout the whole day, though. She didn’t cry once and only started to whimper late in the day. We all felt the same way but the baby was the only one vocalizing it. So she did a good job.

I’m very tired. And kind-of spoiling for a fight. I’m going to watch a movie, read some more of Eragon (not bad, for a 19-year-old home-schooled writer), prance around naked in front of my hotel window and go to bed.


What an asshole. I suppose if you're over 22 you also shouldn't read comic books or play video games either.

I love Bukowski and I hope Tompkins gets his teeth knocked out by a bar stool.
There's a heated discussion over at BookBlog. Okay, it's about as heated as a benign book like A Home at the End of the World can be.
Check out my interview with the U.S. Border Patrol over at YPR.


It’s funny looking at all the books I have listed to the left, over there. I just glanced through them and was like, “Oh, I accidentally spilt orange juice all over the cover of that one… And that one somehow got caught between my closet door and the wall this morning…” Oops, I should take better care of my preciouses. My preciousessss…
I went to Best Buy yesterday evening. Have you ever been to one? Of course you have. You’re probably living in a civilized area where Starbucks litter the city blocks and there are (legal) things to do after eight o’clock at night. When certain chains have lowered their standards enough to set up shop in town, you know it’s all people are going to care about around here. When Wal-Mart came, offering the lowest possible prices and ensuring the financial demise of local shops, people flocked to the Grand Opening and bought all kinds of shit they didn’t need. When Border’s opened and advertised hours extending until (gasp!) ten o’clock pm on weeknights and eleven o’clock pm on weekends, literate people spent all their free time there (as opposed to the two independent booksellers down the road who subsequently went out of business). Now: Best Buy.

It’s like an electronic carnival. I went in for the first time just to see what it’s like. It’s been open here for about a month, so the number of gawkers as opposed to actual shoppers has shifted more toward the latter. There really aren’t that many places around here that have a decent selection of electronics, so I thought I might find cool things here. The one word I can use to fully describe my experience at Best Buy is “Loud”. It was almost “Obscenely Loud”. I went looking for a mic attachment for my digital voice recorder. They didn’t have anything that specific, just eye candy and pipe dreams for us regular folk. An $8000 plasma screen TV? Yeah, right. I browsed through the digital cameras, trying to get into the memory and see what shoppers had been taking pictures of. Alas, no memory cards in any of them.

At a loss for what to spend my imaginary money on, I headed to the back of the store to check out car audio systems. My factory issued one is starting to get fuzzy and I want a kick-ass system. The young dude working in this area, Pat, showed me around the three large displays. I asked him which is better: Pioneer or Kenwood. I’m a little wary of Sony. I know they’re really popular but I’ve gotten some really crap products from them in the past (e,g. An $80 digital voice recorder, which plays back audio sounding as though I was strapped to the roof a car speeding down the interstate.) He told me that Rockford Fosgate is really good.

The method for figuring out what audio suits your car is really cool. You select your car’s make, model and year on a touch screen monitor and it tells you what speaker’s will fit. Then you decide what brand you want. I ask Pat if I really need a new deck. He said yes because it will produce a better quality of sound. Okay, I need a new deck and speakers. What about a sub-woofer? He says that since my car is open, I’ll probably only need one, as opposed to two that the usual ghetto-slammers around here get. And I’ll need an amp. What? What the fuck, Pat? They cost, like, 500 bucks. Yeah, but if I get a sub-woofer, I need an amp as well. That’s just the way it is.

Pat starts touching buttons on the monitor, setting up a sound trial for all the options I’ve just chosen. When it comes to the style of music to select (Country, Hip/Hop, etc) his finger hovers for a moment above Jazz. You motherfucker. I stab “Electronic” before he makes the biggest mistake of his life. I was expecting a banal house beat to come on but, surprisingly, Crystal Method starts up. By the time the beat really starts thumping, customers at the front of the store are craning their necks toward the back to see what all the hullabaloo is about. I’m bouncing to the beat, transfixed by the totally awesome sound, while Pat swings to and fro on his crutches.

Okay, it’s looking like all this is gonna cost a lot of money. Is this something people are going to want to steal from me? Oh yeah. Pat tells me his brother’s system was stolen a few months ago. Are you serious? Around here? Oh yeah, over in Lebanon. All you need to do is cruise by the Lot Lizards behind Burger King once and if they hear a kickin’ sound system, they’ll remember your car and your license plate. Oh my God. I mean, it’s not like I’m ever going to cruise by any Lot Lizards in the middle of the night because I’m not that kind of girl, but still. Oh my God. It was a $4000 system, too. Can you get insurance for a car audio system? Yeah. Pat’s got insurance for his, after what happened to his brother.

Pat asks me if this is something I’m going to want tonight. I shake my head and try to play it cool. Oh, no no, I’m just, you know, getting an idea of what I want. Besides, I’m sure I can get everything here cheaper from a catalog… The music was so good, yo. … So good.


I've just been informed the the term lot lizard means different things in different places. In my case, it means the burn-outs (male and female) who park behind fast food joints and stand around planning what they want to do for the night but only ever end up parked behind fast food joints for the night.


Josh over at This is Not a Pipe makes reference to the new MTV show Rich Girls. I’ve seen it a couple times. It’s about Tommy Hilfiger’s daughter and… some other girl. They’re really rich and all they do is shop, bitch, cry and say stupid things. There’s this one guy who, I don’t know, one of the girl’s likes but he’s friends with both, whatever. I flip to the show and the guy, Mike, is crying. I mean, absolutely sobbing. Snot running down his face and everything. I think, “Whoa… what happened?” He’s in the middle of saying: “We’re friends, you know? Do you know [sob] how much it hurts me when [sob] you said that? [Wiping away snot, strings of spittle stretching across mouth] I just- I thought we were, like, friends. It was, like, you and me and Allie. [Some random guy sits on stone wall next to them. Mike turns to the guy.] What are you doing?... Get out of here. [Other guy says he just wants to sit there.] You’re a fucking loser. Get out of here! [Other guy can’t believe he’s being attacked like this.] Well you are a fucking loser, now get out of here! I’m kind of in the middle of something here!” And on it went… That Mike is a pansy-ass jerk-off. I’d like to meet him on the street some time and kick him where it counts. What a jerk.

A show that I enjoy immensely on MTV is Room Raiders. Three people (usually girls) are grabbed from their homes while a guy goes through each room and decides who he wants to take out on a date- without ever having met the girls! What makes this show great is that the guys always pass judgment against the girls based on the lamest things they find.

Guy: [Holds up a wig.] What is this? Why does she have a wig? She’s obviously insecure about who she is.

Girl 1: [Watching guy on monitor in a van.] That was for Halloween. I’m not insecure.

Guy: [Opening freezer, seeing bottles of liquor. Liquor on top of fridge.] Lots of booze here. I don’t know, maybe girl number two has a drinking problem.

Girl 2: We had a party last weekend. It’s all left-over from that.

Guy: [Checking alarm clock.] 9:02. Who gets up at 9:02? … I guess she doesn’t need to get up early for anything… Like a job.

Girl 2: That was from when I took a nap! It’s set for 9:02 at night!

Guy: [Pulls out denture cream from nightstand drawer.] Whoa! This girl does NOT have dentures!

Girl 3: [Screaming at TV monitor on van.] It’s my grandmother’s! She stayed in my room a while ago!

Some of these guys, though, are really sneaky. They’ll check what websites the girls have been to on their computers, they’ll always check out the underwear and bra drawers (some of them even smart enough to check bra sizes). Occasionally they’ll check under the bed or read private passages from diaries and notes. They also use a blacklight to check the sheets for any suspicious stains.

Guy: Let’s do the blacklight test. [Turns off lights, passes light over pillow. Huge, misshapen stain appears.] OH MY GOD! What is that? [Passing light back and forth.] What is that? Ugh.

Girl: [Screaming at monitor] It’s just bleach! I bleached my hair!!

Guy: … Ugh. That- that is disgusting. I don’t even want to know what that is.

And then, of course, when I’m watching this with my sister, she has to ask, “So, Amy. If I guy came into your room, what do you think would happen?” And I say, “Well, he’d say, ‘Look at all the books. There’s, like, a million books in here. And… dirty clothes on the floor. And old coffee cups on the desk. And her underwear isn’t very sexy.'” Awww… So sad.
Weep. Neal Pollack is shutting down his blog. If Neil Gaiman does the same, I'll kill myself. I mean it.


So last night I’m watching some TV. As soon as a commercial break appears, I ask Barbara, “Where’s the tv thing?” Before she hands it to me, she asks, “Don’t you think it’s weird we call it ‘the tv thing’?” I stop to think about it and realize, yeah, it’s a pretty stupid thing to call it. “Most people call it ‘the remote control’ or ‘remote’”, she went on, “but we always called it ‘the tv thing’.” It hits me how stupid I sound and I can’t stop laughing. I wonder if it’s because we grew up with a Korean mother who didn’t know all that much English. Maybe she called it ‘the tv thing’ and we learned from her. I don’t know, maybe it’s a New England thing.

I’m just wondering how many other people in the world call the controller ‘the tv thing’ or if I’m the only one.

Also, does anyone else call cat turds “poopy-doo ding dongs”? Because we do that as well. It’s not uncommon to hear someone in the house say, “Griffith dropped a poopy-doo ding dong outside of the litterbox.” Or, “Griffith has some popy-doo ding dong on his butt.”


I finally finished ‘Middlesex’ by Jeffery Eugenides. This book was only marginally easier to read than ‘The Crimson Petal’ but not nearly as good (in my opinion). It was extremely well written and I believe Eugenides deserves the Pulitzer he won for it, yet there was something missing. In case you aren’t aware, the story is about a hermaphrodite named Callie (later, Cal) and her family. Rather, I should say it’s about her family and a little bit about her. 75% of the book is about her grandparents and parents. Near the end of the book, Callie hits puberty and things change. Interspersed throughout the novel, there are few pages here and there of Cal telling his present-day story about being in Berlin. These parts were interesting to me but there really wasn’t all that much information he gave.

I didn’t like the fact that basically all of the book was about the past. It’s important and interesting to know about her family history but by page 250, I was still reading about her grandparents and thinking, “Sheesh, when are we gonna get to Callie’s story?”

You can’t really go wrong with a Pulitzer Prize winning book. They’re all long, satisfying reads and worth the money. This one, though it was good, wasn’t my most favorite.


When did BookSense get it's new look? I don't really like how you need to enter a zip code to view to view the best sellers and Book Sense 76. Before, you could just look at them on the booksense website. And now they don't seem to have all those cool lists they used to. They used have a new list each month (or two) based upon catagory: new mysteries, books about baseball, poetry, etc. Where are these lists now? And when you go to a local booksense bookstore's webpage, the Book Sense 76 Picks are different for every store. It's all so new and confusing (therefore bad).


Inis “Search Inside the Book” Poatur Beally Norks!

I have two cats in my household. You may have heard them mentioned here before. They're Manx brothers named Gatsu and Griffith (those of you who know Berserk will know what the names are in reference to). Anyway, Manx cats don’t have tails. I grew up with a Manx named Candy and decided if I were ever to get another cat, it would have to be at least part Manx. The temperament of the cat is awesome; they’re really friendly and cute and the missing tail is adorable. If you’re the type of person that likes dogs but doesn’t want one, a Manx is for you. I swear Candy used to growl and bark at new people who would come to the house.

Anyway, I’m looking for books at Amazon on Manx. Using their nifty new “Search Inside the Book” tool, my results for “Manx” are:

1. Manx Ballads and Music (Celtic Language and Literature: Goidelic and Brythonic)

People from the Island of Man (between Ireland and the UK) are called Manx. This is where these cats are originally from. So this books is probably the people and not the cats.

2. The Manx Cat (Learning About Cats)

Sounds promising…

3. The Manx: The Cat With No Tail

4. The Get Fuzzy Experience

What? I love that comic strip! There’s stuff about a Manx in it? There’s a quote from page 80 that says: “… TRINK OF FIOW MANX XGS `OU’LL BE HELPING MY DONATING TRIS BLOop…..” [Shaking head] What? What does that mean? Trink of fiow manx xgs… After clicking on the link to the actual page, I read the bubble above Rob’s head that says “Think of how many dogs you’ll be helping by donating this blood…”

Goddammit! It’s “many”, not “manx”. And “BLOop”? Someone want to tell me what the hell a “BLOop” is? You’d think Amazon would have a dictionary abiding text translator.

It’s apparent to me that this “Search Inside the Book” is shit and doesn’t work. I was going to enter into the contest and win that Segway, too.
Extreme Beer Tasting

Magic Hat: #9

This is one of my absolute favorite beers. The only drawback I can see that that it would be classed as a ‘girl beer’ since this “not quite pale ale” is brewed with the essence of apricot. It’s tasty like a mo-fo, don’t get me wrong, but you really wouldn’t see a macho man drinking it. Maybe one of the preppy stock exchange guys.

Magic Hat is brewed in South Burlington, Vermont. One thing I really like about their beer is that there’s a random, often mystifying, rhyme printed on the inside of all their bottle caps. This one says, “Milk a cow till it says ‘WOW’”. What does that mean? No really, there must be a person checking all the rhymes to ensure that no obscene ones (eg. I’ve got class so kiss my ass) come through. So who read “Milk a cow till it says ‘WOW’!” and went, “Next!”?

For the most part, you need to be high to really appreciate the bottle cap messages. I suspect this is because there are a couple dudes up in Burlington who think this shit up by taking a hit off the bong, pausing… and then issuing forth prophetic statements wrapped in smoke. “If you want to stay, you must par-tay”. Dude! That’s a good one. Wait-wait- what about, “Wipe your sleeve to believe”. Fuckin’ awesome man! Write that shit down!

So then, somewhere in Vermont…

Fred: Hey man, here’s a beer.

Eric: Thanks dude. [Opens the beer, reads the cap] ‘Wipe your sleeve to believe’.

Fred: [Looking at Eric’s sleeve] Whoa man! You have some peanut butter on your sleeve! Look!

Eric: [Looking] Whoa… [Wipes it away with finger, sticks finger into mouth, sucking off peanut butter]

Fred: … How did they know?

Eric: Dude… How did they know?

Fred: So… like… what do you believe now?

Eric:… I believe… in the Universe. Like, there are no accidents. I mean, I had stuff on my sleeve and I didn’t know until I read the cap. It was, like, a- a- a- message or something.

Fred: You think those Magic Hat guys are really magicians?

Eric: Probably. [Takes sip, shrugs] How else could they have known? What does your cap say?

Fred: [Reading cap] ‘Kill your friend to make the mend.’

Eric: What?

Fred: Sorry, dude.


EBT Rating: *********-
This is how the world ends.
Good interview of Neil Gaiman up at Sequential Tart. I don't know how that dude can carry so much around in his pockets.


Ween on Halloween. I was looking forward to this concert up in Burlington even though I’m not a huge Ween fan. I just thought it’d be wild to see all the costumes and people watch.

Barbara, Jason and I arrive at the Memorial Auditorium at 7:30 pm. The band comes out at 8:30 and the pushing begins. It wasn’t so much heavy moshing as it was heaving leaning and slow pushing. I was right up front and felt like I was in the ocean. Okay, this isn’t too bad. I can handle this. There’s one guy that’s totally wasted, though, and he’s kind of oozing around the crowd. He’d lean into me and I’d pushing him away. Miraculously, he wouldn’t fall. He’d just press himself against other people.

By 10:30, I’m ready to go home. I know that Barbara and Jason want to stay so I ask for the car keys. “I’ll go sleep in the car,” I say. Barbara flips out because she doesn’t want me walking to the car alone. Hey, this is Burlington, not Harlem. I’ll be fine. But no, she wants me to wait.

I sit on some big wheeled boxes at the back of the Auditorium and drink water. I like looking at people’s costumes. There’s a guy wearing a rocket ship, a cow girl, wonder woman, a faerie. It’s all good.

Barbara comes to the back and viscously wonders what’s the matter with me. Nothing. I’m not a huge Ween fan, I’ve had my fill of the show, I’ve got a headache and I’m wicked tired. I’ll sit here until you’re ready to go.

Jason’s having a fine time. He’s dancing and wandering around. Barbara’s standing next to me, getting angrier by the minute. Eventually, Jason sees her face and says, “All right, let’s go.”

So we walk back to the car in silence. I’m the bad guy because I caused this whole problem by saying I was ready to leave. I never said we had to leave! I could have slept on the boxes in the back. Barbara was the one with something shoved up her ass.

On the ride back home, I lay down and go to sleep. Before I drift off, I can hear them talking in the front seat. I can’t make out much but Jason says how he would have liked to stay until the show was over and how Barbara’s being a bitch, blaming me for the whole thing. Fuck. Them. I think before closing my eyes.

I wake up to Barbara angrily chastising Jason for not listening to her:

Barbara: You’re obviously not listening to me.

Jason: I thought I was.

Barbara: I’m telling you about these five different ideas I have and I’m trying to tie them all together and while I’m thinking about how to say it, you say, “So, are they man-made?” …

Jason …

Amy: What the fuck is she talking about?

Barbara: [Angry] You’re not listening to me.

Jason: [Quiet] I don’t want talk about it.

Barbara: Why?

Jason: …

Barbara: [Whining] Why are you mad?

Jason: Just finish what you were saying.

Barbara: … I was saying that Nature is the biggest Nurturer. People don’t realize that.

Amy: [Rolling eyes in back seat]

Barbara: Resources are being used up and the environment is being wiped out. It’s important to ecosystems to have a natural environment.

Amy: Shut up.

Barbara: Animals depend on the environment.

Jason: [Says something unintelligible.]

Barbara: Well, a man-made pond would be all right. Because, after a while it’s fully integrated into nature. And it’s important for all the animals that depend on it. Fish live in the pond, the birds eat the insects-

Amy: Shut up.

Barbara: …insects live there… frogs live there…

Amy: Shoot me now.

Barbara: …deer go up to the ponds and drink water…

Amy: I’m going to open the door and jump from this moving car.


Barbara: Bats are so cute. Vampire bats are the cutest.

Jason: [Asleep at the wheel]

Barbara: They don’t actually suck blood. They bite people or cows and there’s something in their saliva that keeps blood from coagulating.

Amy: It’s one in the fucking morning. Shut up.

Barbara: So they’ll keep on licking the bite and it’ll keep on bleeding and they’ll lick up the blood. They’ll be like lick-lick-lick-lick-


Barbara: -lick-lick-lick-lick. They’re so cute.


Jason: [Pulling into drive way]

Amy: [Jumping out of car before it stops. Runs inside and goes to bed.]

- - -

Barbara has a "real problem" with people that (a)cut her off when she's saying something and (b)people that don't listen when she's saying something. I'd like to address these two points.

1. She flips out and cries when someone cuts her off. Little does she realize, she doesn't get cut off anymore than anyone else. She's just hyper-sensitive about it. It makes her feel like she’s not important when someone cuts her off. I say: Shut the fuck up and get over it.

2. She flips out and cries when she thinks that someone’s not listening to what she’s saying. Meanwhile, someone will be watching an interesting program on the Cooking Network and she’ll say something stupid/pretentious {See: Car ride home, above}. She’ll wait and when she doesn’t get a response, she’ll get totally pissed off and say, “You never listen to me!” and go lock herself in the bathroom to sob. It’s not like anyone purposefully ignores her. If you don’t drop everything you’re doing to focus 110% of your attention on her, she takes it as a personal slight. I say: Shut the fuck up and get over it.

I’m done venting. I feel remarkably better.